


Etched with Scarlet

by roguearcanis



Category: Life of the Party D&D (Web Series)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-29
Updated: 2020-03-29
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:02:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 794
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23384203
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/roguearcanis/pseuds/roguearcanis
Summary: I know y'all are as weak for nightmare-induced hurt/comfort as I am weak for Sarenthias. Don't lie to me.
Relationships: Sariel/Aerenthias Van Wymarck
Comments: 3
Kudos: 25





	Etched with Scarlet

_Blood - thin and dark - spurting across a wall, ornately decorated with delicate frescos. Such exquisite detail would be etched with scarlet forever, despite how many hands scrubbed it clean._

_A stench of damp. Of sweat. Perpetual, oppressively warm air with nowhere to go, languishing in subterranean slumber. Air that suffocated and choked in the throat._

_Screams in the night._

_Hundreds of hands reaching for the dazzling light above, only to be pushed back down by white, gloved hands._

_White hot, searing pain. Always pain._

_Blood pooling on marble. A sickening, echoing thud._

_Screams in the night._

_Screams in the night._

_Screams._

_Screams._

_Screams._

"Sariel!"

The druid jolted awake, screams still tearing from her throat and causing her chest to burn. Tears stung as though acidic in her eyes, and in her sleep, her nails had sharpened to vicious talons that had raked frayed tears through the bedsheets. 

"Little love, it's alright..."

A purred, honey-sweet voice soothed from behind her right ear, but even the sweetest of words made her flinch violently and cry out again. She felt a strong arm snaked around her waist, and a hand gently smoothing her tangled, sweat-matted hair. 

"Hush, my darling, it's alright. I promise you, you're safe..."

Even in her frenzied, nightmare-ridden state, and even in the drowsy witching hour that it was, he knew how best to approach her. Gradually building up with light, gently coaxing brushes of his fingers until he could protectively envelop her with an arm. The hair, face, hands and abdomen were safe bets, but not the elbows, knees or ankles. The neck only with express permission, never the wrists, and never _ever_ catching her unawares or by surprise. It was a level of comfort and understanding that they had built up over time, him gradually earning her trust and learning her boundaries. His commitment and respect made her love him all the more. 

Breathing ragged, slowly filtering through the sickening, macabre images and taking in the familiar comfort of their room, Sariel's canines reduced back from their razor-sharp form. Gasping in a sob, she sagged back against Aerenthias' torso, hugging her arms in towards herself. His deft fingers shifted to tracing soothing patterns against her scalp, and he leaned forward to press a kiss to the back of her head.

"You're safe," he repeated steadily, "You're alright..."

"I was back there again..." she husked, voice cracked and broken, "Again... that's the third time this week. Something's coming, I can _feel_ it"

"My love, I promise you, _nobody_ is going to hurt you that way again," Aerenthias replied sincerely, a dark, dangerous edge to his voice that made the candlelight in the room flicker as though in fear, "I am _never_ going to let anyone do anything like that to you. They'll die before they could lay eyes on you, I swear it."

Gulping back another sob, Sariel shifted in the tiefling's arms, rolling over onto her other side to face him. Recognising the movement well, Aerenthias hugged her close to his chest, his arms looping protectively up her back and around her shoulders. He peppered a light string of kisses to one of the scars on her collar bone, before moving up to rest his chin over her head, allowing her to huddle closer in to his embrace. She pressed an ear to his chest, allowing the steady rhythm of his heart to bring her breathing back down from hysteria. 

"I think I have to go back there..." she murmured after a long while, her voice thin and shaken. A huff of breath, tight with acrimony at those associated with 'there', left Aerenthias' lips.

"There's absolutely no rush," he assured her, holding her closer against him, "But when you do think you're ready to go back, you don't have to do it alone. The rest of the group will have your back... And I for one will be with you every step of the way. Until I draw my last breath, I will fight for you."

"We'll fight together," she whispered, her fingers curling around his bicep, "We'll fight until there's nothing left of that place. We'll burn it to the ground..."

"We will..." he vowed, a pledge she knew from his tone that he would take to the grave. Exhausted, a yawn broke from her lips, her eyelids fluttering. Aerenthias reached down, tugging the torn sheets back over them. "Sleep now, my radiant one. Dream of constellations and moonlit waters..."

"Or... better yet... I'll dream of you..." she mused quietly, leaning further into his embrace as slumber's hypnotic tug pulled her under. The privateer continued to trace soothing patterns into her hair, his lips resting pensively to her forehead.

"Better yet..." he murmured, voice barely audible, "You won't dream again tonight..."


End file.
